


The Price of Freedom

by KyluxFicHell



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage AU, Boys In Love, Fluff, M/M, Referenced body image issues, References to forced sex, Romance, Sex, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyluxFicHell/pseuds/KyluxFicHell
Summary: From the moment George had learned of his fate, he’d wondered if it was all really worth it.He loves being a part of The Beatles; music is his life, his passion. It’s what makes up his very soul. He’d always counted himself lucky; he’s a working class lad who’s found fame and fortune doing what he loves. Not many people can say that.But having things you love comes at a price.If George were still just that working class lad from Liverpool, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d be poor and he’d work twelve hours a day doing a job he hated, but he’d have more freedom than he has now that he’s George Harrison of The Beatles.If he weren’t in The Beatles, he wouldn’t have a bride-price on his head.He wouldn’t be expected to marry some rich tyrant in the music industry to secure more power for a record label that doesn’t really need it. To form an alliance that can be formed in other ways- ways that don’t involve George lying on his back and thinking of England.ORIn a world where successful music artists are expected to marry the rich and powerful in the industry, The Beatles’ time has come.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	The Price of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you familiar with my work in other fandoms will know I love a good arranged marriage fic! 
> 
> Warning for some sexual harassment and reference to non-con/forced sex that doesn’t actually take place in the fic. I’ve included the rape/non con warning to be safe but no forced sex actually takes place in the fic. This is obviously quite a dark AU so read with caution! 
> 
> Everything here is obviously completely fictional, including fictional portrayals of the people mentioned. 
> 
> Feel free to send me any asks over on Tumblr @beatles-slash fiction :) I’m just starting to get into writing in this fandom!

From the moment George had learned of his fate, he’d wondered if it was all really worth it.

He loves being a part of The Beatles; music is his life, his passion. It’s what makes up his very soul. He’d always counted himself lucky; he’s a working class lad who’s found fame and fortune doing what he loves. Not many people can say that. 

But having things you love comes at a price. 

If George were still just that working class lad from Liverpool, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d be poor and he’d work twelve hours a day doing a job he hated, but he’d have more freedom than he has now that he’s George Harrison of The Beatles. 

If he weren’t in The Beatles, he wouldn’t have a bride-price on his head. 

He wouldn’t be expected to marry some rich tyrant in the music industry to secure more power for a record label that doesn’t really need it. To form an alliance that can be formed in other ways- ways that don’t involve George lying on his back and thinking of England. 

But he loves music and he loves The Beatles. He loves Paul, his big brother, and John, his idol.

And Ringo. His best friend. 

But having things you love comes at a price.

*****

The four of them make a bet between them that Paul will be the first to find a suitor. 

They aren’t wrong. 

Their bride-prices are all the same initially; they’re all given an equal valuation. Those prices are plastered across the front of every newspaper; it’s an advertisement as much as it is news, asking anyone who can pay it and who holds any power in the music industry to put in a bid.

They have an official bride auction night. The record label’s idea. 

It’s officially the most humiliating night of George’s life. 

Brian does his best to fight against it. He fights against the powers that be relentlessly, questioning why they need to go through such an outdated tradition when they know any one of the boys will secure a good bride-price. But Brian is just one man, and society will never change. 

“I’m so sorry, lads,” Brian says, looking more defeated and deflated than George has ever seen him on their auction night. “I’ve failed you.”

“Don’t be daft,” John says immediately. “You’ve done everything you can to make this as easy as possible for us.”

George stares at himself in the mirror. The light blue gown he’s been given is sleeveless, with a low neckline. It would be beautiful if it weren’t translucent, and if the lacy underwear he’d been given weren’t visible underneath. 

He looks more like a whore than a bride.

He doesn’t know if it’s comforting or enraging that the rest of the lads are dressed the same as him.

Paul looks incredibly graceful and poised as always, despite the revealing outfit. John is larking about like he usually does, clearly trying to hide how uncomfortable he is.

Ringo is having a bit of a panic; the translucent gown shows off the scars on his stomach from his childhood surgeries, and he’s worried it will turn suitors off.

“You look beautiful, Ritchie,” George promises, squeezing his friend’s hand. “No one will even be looking at the scars, mate. They’ll be too distracted by how good you look in that gown.”

It’s probably a little too honest, but Ringo’s smile is blinding so George decides its worth it. 

The night itself is horrible. 

Everyone who’s anyone in the music business is here, and the place is swarming with journalists. They’re told by a record executive to mingle, to flirt, to seduce as many suitors as possible. 

Brian stands in the background and looks as though he wants to be sick. 

George isn’t really at the top of his game, but he doesn’t really care. He passes from one mind-numbing conversation to another, not really bothering to listen as his partners eye up his gown and everything that’s on display. Most of them are more interested in trying to grab his bum.

He walks away that night with no immediate offers to pay his bride-price. So do John and Ringo. 

Paul has seven bids. Four at his bride-price, and three above. 

The record executive makes Paul go back into the crowd to formally accept the highest bid in person, and George holds John quietly in their dressing room while he cries in anguish.

*****

John has two offers the next day. He accepts the highest bid without the defiant swearing or joking that George had expected. 

George has four offers. His highest bid is from an executive of another record label who he’d spoken at length with last night. His name is Alan Green. He’s forty-four years old; twenty-two years George’s senior.

George has no choice but to accept. 

“I knew you’d be popular, Georgie,” Ringo says with a forced smile when he’s told the news. “How could you not be?”

Ringo doesn’t receive a single bid.

The days pass and the press start talking, so the record label decides to lower Ringo’s bride-price. 

George knows how humiliated Ringo must feel, but there’s a part of him that yearns to be in his position. There’s a part of him that wishes that no one had made a bid on him, that nobody wanted him. 

If he could, George would pay every penny under his name to have Ringo as his.

*****

Alan invites George to dinner two weeks later, and George spends the whole evening wondering how the hell he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with this man. 

George tries. He really does. He tries to be polite and sweet and ask thoughtful questions, but every moment he spends with Alan makes him realise how much he’s dreading his marriage. 

They have nothing in common. Alan doesn’t once ask how George is feeling about all this. And worst of all, he spends most of the evening going over expectations for their wedding night. 

George feels trapped. Suffocated. Doomed to a loveless marriage. 

He runs home when the evening is over; he’d driven to Alan’s house but right now he can’t sit still, he just wants to run. 

He runs all the way back to Whaddon House, where Ringo is waiting for him when he arrives breathless and in tears. 

“I can’t do it,” George sobs, allowing Ringo to pull him into his arms. “I can’t marry him, Rich. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-“

“Hey hey,” Ringo says softly, squeezing his friend tightly. “It’s okay, George. It’s okay.”

They settle on the sofa together and Ringo holds George close, kissing his hair and whispering reassurances to him. 

This is what a marriage should be like, George thinks as he leans forward and brushes their lips together.

*****

They sleep together for the first time that night.

Ringo sits in his bed with his back against the headboard, gripping George’s hips as the younger man rides him. They kiss as George bounces slowly on the older man’s cock, sighing with pleasure and whimpering at the realisation that they can never have this. 

“Marry me,” Ringo says in a trembling voice when they’ve both finished, breathless and sweaty. “Marry me, Georgie.”

George closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Ringo’s, their noses brushing, their breath mingling. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe.” Ringo kisses George’s ear, then his neck. “But I love you.”

George buries his face in the juncture between Ringo’s neck and shoulder, trying to imagine a world where this all works out for them. He imagines a world twenty years in the future where he wakes up next to Ringo, wedding rings on their fingers, and they’re just a happy pair of middle-aged men. He imagines looking into Ringo’s blue eyes for the rest of his life, and he knows Ringo’s eyes are the last thing he wants to see before he dies as an old man. 

“I love you too,” George says in a trembling voice, kissing the man he loves with as much energy as he can muster. 

Having things you love comes at a price.

*****

They ask John and Paul to come over the next day.

George honestly thought they’d have to convince them. He’d imagined that he and Ringo would have to plead their case, to _beg_.

So it’s a relief when their friends agree immediately. 

“The band isn’t worth it if we have to spend the rest of our lives miserable,” John says firmly, and his fingers twitch just an inch closer to Paul’s.

Paul gives a sad smile. “We can still play together. Even if no record label will ever have us.” He turns to John. “Some things are more important, eh?”

They all know it will be the scandal of the century if they turn down their marriage proposals and break up the band. But it’s what needs to be done. 

George smiles when he sees Paul shift a little closer to John, and John laces their fingers together. 

“We could all elope back to Liverpool,” Ringo jokes, and they all laugh at that.

For the first time in weeks, they all properly laugh. 

George thinks of himself running through the streets of London last night, feeling as though he was running from a cage that the whole world wanted to imprison him in, towards the safety of Ringo and all the freedom he could offer. 

He thinks of the fantasy he’d had of waking up next to Ringo as a middle-aged man, and he knows that’s what his heart wants. Even if it means leaving behind the life he knows now. 

George looks into Ringo’s eyes, shining with joy for the first time in so long, and he knows this is what he wants. 

Having things you love comes at a price.


End file.
